


Deployment Anxiety

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7858279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Shanxi occupation isn't exactly a fun station to pull from the deployment grab bag.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deployment Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> this also sort of serves to explain how desolas was able to be captured in m.e.: evolution because honestly why is a general just sort of there available for capture??

Desolas didn’t like Shanxi. Not only was it infested with a new type of the soft-hide, self-important, no-discipline, ugly little fleshy alien _pests_ already riddling the galaxy, but the planet itself was a hideous scar of desert rock, with only the sparsest kinds of scrub and scraggly, pathetic trees. Turians had evolved to not only survive and thrive, but _dominate_ any sort of environment they were presented with, but that didn’t mean they had to _like_ it.

His squadron had set up camp at the base of a small ridge, with one of the ugly trees stretching out above them for shade. Not that they needed it now, in the middle of the night, but it would be good enough later on. The cluster of small, makeshift shelters was almost eerily quiet, all but a few sentries sound asleep. Desolas himself was patrolling the site, making sure everything was in order before the wake-up call at dawn. And it was, for the most part. There was just one thing out of place.

And as that one thing was his second-in-command, Desolas figured it was only polite to see to it himself.

“You should be asleep, Lieutenant," he said as he approached the rock she’d chosen for a perch, feeling a vague twinge of guilt as she jumped.

Abrudas turned to face him, washed-out golden plating turning a serene off-white in the light of the planet’s moon. “I could say the same for you, sir.”

“ _I’m_ doing my job,” he challenged. “ _You’re_ sitting on a rock.”

Abrudas snorted quietly. “Oh good, I love this game.” She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, pitching her voice deeper to clearly try to imitate him as she said, “I’m a _general_ , I do what I _want_. _I’m_ the only one authorized to do nothing this time of night. I know why _I’m_ awake, but why are _you_ awake?”

He blinked incredulously as she settled back into a more natural, relaxed pose, fluttering her mandibles at him. “I do _not_ sound like that.”

“Oh, please, do you listen to yourself?” She smirked and moved over on her rock, motioning for him to sit. “I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well stand guard and do something useful.”

“Fair enough.” He brushed what dirt he could off the rock before taking a seat, then laced his fingers together in his lap. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Deployment anxiety, I suppose. That knot you get in your gizzard right before everything goes up in smoke, you know? That sense that says something’s about to go wrong, but you don’t know what, and you don’t know when.”

Desolas hummed in understanding. “My experience, the ‘what’ is usually ‘everything,’ and the ‘when’ is ‘right away.’”

Abrudas chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

Desolas nudged her shoulder with his own. “Don’t worry about it. Everything will work out.”

“And how do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I’m a general. It’s my job.”

“So, you’re trying to soothe me with the platitudes they write down in the handbook.” One of her mandibles twitched.

He quirked one mandible up. “Basically, yes.”

She snorted quietly. “At least you’re honest.”

He snickered, then leaned over and pressed his forehead against her mandible. “It’ll be fine,” he said, more softly than earlier. “Just trust me.”

Her subvocals rumbled with tentative approval, then she moved her head up so her chin grazed over his crest. “I do, but I’m going to worry anyway.” She ducked her head to push back against his, their brow plates touching. “Wouldn’t be a good officer if I didn’t, would I?”

He hummed and moved one hand to cover the nearest of hers. “I suppose you have a point,” he conceded, squeezing her hand. “Trust your instincts, then. They seem to have the right idea.”

She smiled, then headbutted him gently. “You should get some sleep. It’s, what, early morning? I’m not running the operation myself just because our fearless leader is asleep on his feet.”

He grinned and leaned in a little closer, fluttering his mandibles. “Well, if you still can’t sleep, I can think of something else we could do.”

Though her subvocals held a note of excitement, her primary vocals were a very firm rebuttal as she said, “What, on this ground? Even generals don’t get special bunks soft enough for solid rock. You can wait until we get back to the ship.”

“Who said anything about the bunk?” he teased, reaching his mandibles forward to brush against hers.

She was opening her mouth to respond when a sharp bark sounded behind them. “Lieutenant, General! Alien activity detected near the perimeter!” called a sentry, and already Desolas could hear soldiers stirring from sleep.

He suppressed a groan, and Abrudas chuckled. “Foiled again, General?”

One mandible flicked in annoyance. “Once we’re alone _properly_ -”

“You’ll wine and dine the shit out of me, I know.” Her laughter was roiling in her chest, a rolling thunder of a noise that set Desolas’s cowl vibrating in almost perfect harmony. “You go check it out. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the grunts.”

He managed a brief smile, then ducked in to press a small kiss to her cheek ridge. “I’ll be back shortly. These things aren’t that smart.”

As he walked away, he thought he heard her mutter something about “famous last words.”


End file.
